


Home

by reecethewriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Closeted Dean, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Human Castiel, Jealous Dean, M/M, Movie Night, Nearly Human Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Sam Knows, Sam Ships It, Sam's probably gonna get a dog, Smut, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, or some shit like that - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reecethewriter/pseuds/reecethewriter
Summary: Dean is thrilled to be back in the bunker. Thrilled to have his memory foam bed, his leather recliner, his amazing shower. But he isn't really home. Not until he sees Cas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a new work, and still in progress. I haven't even truly edited it yet, but it's been ages since I posted. Enjoy :)

I am, to sum it up, grody. 

Sam and I have just driven over four hundred miles back from a hunt right outside of Lawton Oklahoma, both covered in vamp blood and our own sweat, and we smell pretty freaking vile. Sam’s been talking about the nest we just destroyed and how to better improve our strategy, but all I can think of was how long it’ll take to get this nasty fucking smell out of my car. That, and going home. I really miss being home. 

Lately, we just can’t get a break. It’s been case after case recently, from one shitty town to the next, with no time to go back to the bunker in between.  It’s been weeks since I’ve had slept on a comfortable mattress, or sat in my leather recliner, or ate _some real fucking food for a change._ When I saw the bunker there were almost tears of joy in my eyes, and if one might have slipped, well, no one could really blame me. I was home.  
I don’t even grab my duffle bag from the trunk before I head in, but I can hear Sam bitching about it as he grabs both of ours. I don’t care though. I’m too focused on the familiar smell of the bunker, the table of the library scattered with books Sam left out, the comfortable air, and the aura of _home_. I want more than anything to flop onto the couch, I’m exhausted from today, but I’m still covered in blood. 

Holy fuck. _ I get to use my shower. _ That thought alone gives me the energy I need to power through. I go to the showers and peel off my sweat soaked clothes, and jesus christ I missed this. The water pressure alone might bring those tears from before back. I stay in longer than I need to. I’m not as young and I used to be, and this last hunt left my muscles aching. A long shower is well-deserved.

I throw on some pajamas (it’s only seven, but who the fuck cares) and head out, and when I see him on the couch, my head is screaming “home” more than it has about anything I’ve seen in the bunker so far. He’s back. I say his name and it comes out in a whisper, he doesn’t even hear me, so I say it again a bit louder. “Cas.”

He whips his head when he hears me, and his face breaks out into a grin, and I don’t remember ever seeing him smile like this. It’s been longer than just days, since I’ve seen him. A little over a month, maybe. He stands up and crosses the room, and actually freaking hugs me. His grip is tight and I don’t want him to let go, in fact, I probably wouldn’t let go if Sam weren’t here. But he is, so I let go and Cas backs up, and the rooms is quiet, but happy. Everyone feels happy. 

“Sam called,” Cas explains, sitting back down on the couch. I don’t know how to tell Sam how grateful I am that he did that. That this is the thing I needed most right now. I wish I knew how to, but I don’t, so I just swallow the lump in my throat and nod. Sam has (annoyingly) taken my recliner so I sink down into the spot next to Cas, leaning back into the comfortable, worn sofa. 

“I figured it’s been awhile since you’ve-” Sam pauses. “Since we’ve all seen each other. I figured we could do a movie night. Lord of the Rings?”

I have the best brother in the world. In the entire fucking universe. “Dude hell yes. That sounds awesome,” I say and Cas just nods, and Sam goes to grab the DVDs from his room. “Hey Cas?”

“Yeah?” he asks, face turning up to look at me. Holy fuck I’ve missed him. 

“I’m really really happy you’re home,” I blurt out, and he just gets that same grin from before and whispers a “me too, Dean”.

I get up to go make popcorn and while it pops I just sit in the kitchen, thinking. I think about how happy I am to be home, how happy I am that Sam called Cas, how lucky I am to have Cas around. 

My thoughts about Cas have changed a lot in the past couple weeks. Before we had so many barriers and shit and like, I think I’ve realized I don’t want that. I’m sick of acting weird when we talk about deep shit. I’m sick of putting extra space between us in public so people don’t think we’re gay. He’s my best friend and I like being close to him, and around him, and who the fuck cares if people think we’re a couple? I mean they can fuck right off, and it wouldn’t even matter what they thought, even if we really were a couple.

I freeze. For a moment, a split second, I just thought of Cas and I as a couple. Of us at diners with my arm wrapped around him, of us going to the movies, of us doing  _ actual date things _ . I can’t believe I’m actually acknowledging the idea of us being something more, usually I just brush it off, but I can’t. Because I’m realizing it wouldn’t fucking matter what other people thought of us. We could just date and be happy, if we wanted too. I don’t need all of these barriers, and I don’t need to leave things unsaid, and I know he’s my best friend and I don’t know if I want to date him, but if I did, I think it’d be okay. We’d be okay.

“Dean, are you good?” 

I look up from staring blankly at the popcorn in my hand and see Sam in the doorway, arms filled with blankets and DVDs. I wonder how long he’s been standing there. I nod, breaking away from my thoughts, and reach for the bowl on the counter. 

“I’m great Sammy. I’ll be right in,” I say with a smile and he nods cautiously, heading back into the living room. I throw the popcorn into the bowl and head in. Sam is working out the DVD player and Cas is curled up beneath a giant comforter, presumably from Sam. 

I set the popcorn on the coffee table and settle in beside Cas. He left a respectable amount of space beside him on the couch, but I sit right next to him anyway. There’s a tiny flicker of something that looks like shock in his expression, but the second I notice it, it’s gone. He just smiles and throws the comforter over onto me too, so we’re sharing it. Sam finally gets the movie in and turns off the lights, settling into the recliner beside us. 

I’m focusing on the movie, kind of. But Cas has settled a bit closer into my side over the past hour, and now I have a hard time thinking about things that don’t involve how nice his hair smells or how close he is to me. Or why on Earth I didn’t let this happen before. 

Halfway into Fellowship of the Ring, I wrap my arm around him. Cas burrows closer into my side, actually snaking an arm across me. I raise my eyebrows a little bit, but I smile. He just smiles back softly, and turns the watch the movie. If Sam notices, he doesn’t say anything.

Cas falls asleep before it’s over. Sam gets up to switch the disks, and when he heads back to his chair he pauses for just a second. He looks at Cas and I, with his head tilted in a moment’s confusion. I give him a half smile, and he smiles back, taking his place in the recliner. A tiny part of me relaxes. I think he makes it through half of Return of the King. I’m not sure when he falls asleep, but by the time it ends he’s completely passed out. 

I turn off the tv with the remote, and then use it to nudge Sam’s side. “Sam,” I whisper. “Dude, get up. You’re gonna kill your back sleeping like that.”

He nods sleepily, stumbling up with the blanket wrapped around him. He shuffles toward the hallway, but turns back to face me. “Are you sleeping there?” he asks. He says it in a flat, sleep deprived tone, and I’m thankful he doesn’t sound all judgy. 

I look down at Cas. “Yeah, probably. I don’t think he’s moving anything soon.”

Sam doesn’t move, just stares at us for a second. “At least get him to lay down beside you, or you’re both gonna have back problems.” He says it with a small smile, and there’s that small part of me screaming  _ he’s okay with this, he’s okay with this _ . “Ya know, you guys are kinda cute.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just shuffles back down the goddamn hallway and I don’t know what to do with that. We’re cute.

I deliberate my options. I could stay sitting in this weird position all night with Cas on top of me, which is uncomfortable but I wouldn’t have to actually wake Cas up. I could wake him up and get him to lie down alongside me. Or I could go to my bed. With Cas, if he wanted.

This is crossing a lot of my lines. Falling asleep with him on the couch is one thing. Getting him to lie down next to me all cuddled up is a slightly more difficult thing. But getting him to just come get in my bed with me?

That crosses a lot of lines.

It’s not like I’m trying to have sex with him. I don’t even like him like that, probably. All I know that it feels nice, him curled up against me. And I don’t want that feeling to go away.

I start to wake him up, because I figure it’d be best to let him choose, and it isn’t until I’ve already whispered “Hey Cas,” that I realize maybe he won’t pick any of the options at all. Maybe he’ll just go back to his bed. He does have a bed, after all. 

He’s waking up so it’s too late now. “Dean? Is everything okay?” He sits up, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and it makes me laugh a little bit. It’s weird to see such a human gesture on him. 

“Everything’s fine Cas,” I whisper softly. “I just can’t sleep like this, it’ll kill my back.” He suddenly looks really guilty and I don’t know how to say  _ no Cas, it’s not your fault I still want you here, just maybe laying down so my spine isn’t screaming in pain _ . 

He stands up while I’m trying to figure out how to say just that, and the blankets pool at his feet. “I’m sorry Dean, I’ll go-”

I stand up quickly, maybe too quickly considering I lose my balance for a second. “Cas I just meant like,” I hesitate, not sure how to say this without sounding like I’m trying to jump him. Too long passes, and I realize it. “Will you just stay in my room tonight?” I blurt out. 

He pauses. It’s uncomfortably quiet, for me at least. He seems like he’s calculating his response and I wish he’d just say fucking yes or no. “I’m not sure I understand,” he says slowly.

“I just-” My voice is low and uncertain, maybe because I don’t know what the fuck I am trying to say. “I, uh-” Maybe I wasn’t supposed to say it in the first place. Maybe I had all of those barriers up for a good reason. I lower my voice to a whisper, more uncertain than ever. “Nevermind Cas. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He doesn’t move as I pass him and walk to my room. As I pass one of the concrete walls, I briefly consider just bashing my head into it. It’d probably be less painful than what I just went through. 

I flop onto my bed and pull the covers over myself, head whirling with all the dumb shit I said and all the better things I should have said and maybe I should have said nothing at all. I wish I had just stayed the whole night, enjoyed it while it lasted. The back pain wouldn’t have been  _ that  _ bad. 

There’s a gentle knock on my door and I look up to see Cas’s silhouette slowly pushing my door open. “Dean? Can we talk for a moment?”

My heart is racing as I nod and now I’m really panicking because I didn’t think I was going to have to deal with this for at least another six hours. I thought I had time to prepare for the “What is wrong with you, why would you even suggest that?” discussion, but apparently, I don’t. Apparently that’s happening now.

He sits on the edge on my bed and the mattress sinks slightly under his weight. It’s dark, but not so dark that I can’t see his face. Even though I can see him, it doesn’t matter, because I’ve always been shit at reading his expressions, and his face is stoic at the moment. “I was,” He hesitates. “I was confused earlier, and I don’t believe I reacted in a sufficient manner.” He looks at me, really looks at me, and I recognize his facial expression now.

He’s worried.

“To be truthful, Dean, I’m still not sure I understand.” He’s not looking at me anymore. I don’t like this, things being weird and different. I shouldn’t have put him in this position.

“Cas, you can just,” Climb into bed with me. “You can forget what I said earlier. It’s okay. Things don’t have to be weird.”

Cas ignores me, and pushes through with whatever the hell he’s trying to say. “I was confused because typically, for humans, couples sleep in the same bed.”

My stomach jolts, because I can’t explain what I want because  _ I don’t fucking know what I want.  _ And he’s not letting this go. “They typically do,” I whisper softly.

“Is that what you’re suggesting? Is that what you want?”

Is that what I want? Part of me is screaming yes. The rest of me is filled with fear and uncertainty and jesus christ this is so unfamiliar. “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. I take a deep breath, and it’s a little shaky. I’m scared to say it, whatever  _ it _ is. 

“Cas you are my best friend,” I say. It’s a fact. I’m good with facts. “You are my best friend and we’re close and we’re together a lot and maybe some lines just got blurred for me. I don’t know.” That’s truthful. “I don’t know what I’m feeling, because I’m not used to it. I didn’t acknowledge it for a really long time, when I thought about you.” 

That’s not an answer for him. That’s not enough. “We’re best friends, and you’re a dude, and like, I thought I was straight, you know?” I don’t pause long enough to let him answer. “And then it’s just like, sometimes I want to hug you and I never want to let go.” A lump gets caught in my throat, thinking about it. My voice lowers a bit. “Like when you got back from purgatory. Or even today. I came home and I wasn’t really  _ home  _ until you got here.”

“Dean you don’t have to-”

“Cas I don’t know if I want us to be a couple. This is new and it’s unfamiliar and I don’t know how I feel about this. But like, yeah, I wanna curl up in bed with you.” None of this is coming out how I want it to. “I don’t even know if you feel the same way at all, and I totally understand if you don’t. I just, sometimes I want to sleep in the same bed as you and maybe have breakfast, not at a shitty diner but actually  _ make _ breakfast. And I want to be able to wrap my arm around you on the couch when watching movies and I want us to go grocery shopping together sometimes because grocery shopping sucks and I always get lonely and-” I look over and he’s untying his shoes. “What are you doing?”

He ignores my questions and removes his shoes silently. He tugs off his trench coat, and his suit jacket, and pulls the tie off as well. He’s silent, he doesn’t even look at me as he unbuttons his dress shirt, pulling it off to reveal a white v neck underneath. He stands up and goes into my dresser’s third drawer,  _ he’s actually going through my clothes what the hell,  _ and pulls out a pair of my pajama bottoms. He switches out of his dress pants into a pair of my pajama pants, and he’s been silent the whole time and I just poured my fucking heart out to this guy and he’s just ignoring it?

He lifts the covers and climb into bed beside me. He props his head up on his elbow and he’s looking at me and he has what almost resembles a smile on his face. His eyes are twinkling. 

“Dean Winchester, you are a very great man,” he says with a smile. “You are hard working. You are kind and honest and you have saved the world more times than I can count.” He takes a breath. “But Dean Winchester, you are terrible at letting other people speak.”

“Dean, I wasn’t raised with a family, like you were. I went millennia without knowing the kind of bond that comes with family. You and your brother showed me what it was like to have a family. I will always be eternally grateful for that.

“It took me a couple years to understand that what I feel for your brother is incredibly different than what I feel for you. I thought you and I had that familial bond like I had with your brother, just stronger. I thought we had a  _ more profound _ bond. But it was something else entirely.”

He looks at me like he’s done with what he has to say, but that can’t be all he has to say because  _ he hasn’t even really said anything yet.  _ He can’t just leave it like that, can he?

“What was it?” I finally ask. “If it wasn’t just a ‘familial bond’, what was it?”

Castiel laughs a little bit, and I like it. It’s deep but soft, and I want to hear him laugh more. “Dean I am your best friend. I know that this is hard for you. I know you’re uncertain how you feel. I’m not asking anything of you.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“If you decide you just want me to be your friend, I can handle that.” He’s looking down at the sheets below us, no longer meeting my eyes. “And if you, um, if you want us to be a couple,” there’s a loose thread in the sheet that he must find very interesting, because he won’t look up at me. “I would not object to that. As long as you wanted to.” His cheeks are red and he’s actually  _ blushing _ and holy shit I’ve never seen him blush before. He pushes through and I have to work hard to focus on his words because my mind is still comprehending the fact that he  _ would not object to that _ . “And Dean if you need time to work it out, I’ll give it to you. If you want me in your bed some nights, or if you want to hug me, or go  _ grocery shopping  _ with me, I’m here for that. And if you decide you don’t want to be a couple, I’ll understand. If you want to do all of those things and still not be a couple, I can handle that.”

Castiel is so incredibly thoughtful I don’t even know how to respond for at least a full minute. He’s so selfless and kind, and willing to let me work out my feelings. He’s giving me time. He’s giving me an out. If tomorrow I wake up and want to deny this ever happened, he’s giving me a way out. 

I don’t think I want to take it though.

“Earlier, when I was making popcorn, I was thinking,” I begin quietly. “I, um, I let myself think about it. About you and I, as a couple.”

“And?” he prompts.

“And I thought that we might be okay. That we could actually do it. And it’s not something I’ve ever really let myself consider, you know?” Cas nods, even though he probably doesn’t know, because I’ve never heard anything about angels struggling with their sexuality.

“We would be more than okay,” he whispers, kissing me softly on the forehead. It makes my stomach do flip flops, in a good way. I wonder what it’d be like to kiss him, briefly. But I don’t know if I’m quite ready for that.

I do want to be closer to him, though. I wrap my arm across his waist, but he turns onto his back, so now my arm is across his stomach and my head is on his chest. It’s foreign to me, but it’s good. I move my head a little bit, so it’s right in the crook of his neck, and I throw one of my legs over his. I’m basically on top of him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He lets out a soft sigh of content actually, and his fingers begin to thread through my hair. 

I shut my eyes for a second, trying to preserve this moment into my memory forever. The way he smells, like cinnamon and parchment. The utter bliss I feel. I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, but I’m happy. I yawn, which I guess Cas feels, because he nudges me slightly with his arm.

“We should go to sleep. It’s nearly 5 a.m.”

“Is it really? Jesus, I’ve been up for 23 hours,” I say, with another yawn. He closes his eyes, and it’s quiet for a minute or so, but there’s still something else I have to say. I nudge him softly.

“You have been really understanding about all of this Cas. And I appreciate that you’re okay with whatever I decide, but this is your life too. I want to know what you want to happen,” I say. He shifts his head to look down at me, lips turning up at the corners.

“Dean I just want you to be happy,” he says softly, fingering trailing through my hair, eyes fixed upon mine.

“Okay but say I had no opinion at all. What would you want?” I ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “Honestly?”

“Honestly,” I repeat.

“I don’t want to push you Dean. We should save this conversation for later,” he says after a moment, seeming to think better of telling me.

“Castiel.” His full name catches his attention. “Please tell me.”

“Dean Winchester, if it were up to me, I would marry you.”

He would marry me. He would  _ marry me.  _ If it were up to him, he’d be my husband. I’d have a husband. I’d be  _ his _ husband. I would be his.

“Did I completely freak you out? I’m sorry I never should have-”

“Shh,” I whisper. I bury my head back into the crook of his neck. “Let me think for a minute.”

The idea doesn’t freak me out as much as it should. I’m not going to marry him now, which helps me stay calm. This is hypothetical. In the future. Maybe we get married. In a way, it actually helps me. It lets me know that if we did date, it wouldn’t be just some fling. I wouldn’t be risking everything just for a fling. It’d be real.

“Dean, your silence is driving me crazy,” he says and I can feel his chest rumble with his words. God, his voice is deep. “Please tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispers, uncertainty apparent his voice.

“I think if anyone else said that to me, by now I would be in the impala going fifteen over the speed limit, to anywhere they couldn’t find me. I think it’s crazy that I’m not doing that right now, that I’m not freaked out. I think that I’m not sure about us getting married yet, but I am sure that I don’t want to live without you. I thought I lost you a while back, and I don’t want that to happen ever again.” My voice is a little choked, so I swallow hard. “I think it would make my mom smile, if I married a man as good as you.”

Castiel’s quiet. His fingers in my hair stop moving, and when I look up, his face is filled with emotion. He doesn’t try to speak, just kisses the top of my forehead. His eyes are glossy like he might cry, and that should make me regret the thing I said about my mom, but it’s true. I think she’d be proud, if I married Cas.

It’s a while until he speaks again, so long that I thought he had fallen asleep. “Thank you,” he whispers softly, voice a little unstable. 

I squeeze him a little tighter and press a kiss to the skin underneath his jaw. “Goodnight Cas.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up before Cas, and somehow in the night we’ve switched positions. It’s confusing when I wake up, to his arms around me, legs tangled in with mine. I wake up, and he’s _everywhere_ and I love it. I sit for ten minutes or so, just content with him being here. But then I get hungry (popcorn was not an adequate dinner), so I have to get up.

“Hey Cas, I need to get up,” I whisper, nudging him slightly. He grumbles something incoherent and tightens his grip on me, shaking his head. I catch myself grinning because _this is really nice_. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt something as intimate as this. With him so vulnerable, half asleep in my pajamas, latched onto me. It’s not like when I have sex with random chicks I’ve picked up from bars. This is something else entirely. It’s something good.

I nudge him again and he gives, probably just letting me go so I’d stop waking him up. I leave the warm comfort of my bed and go to head out into the hallway, but I pause. I look at Cas’s clothes strewn all over the floor, and him asleep in my bed, snuggled up under my duvet. It makes my heart ache just a tiny bit, it I’m honest. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever been bummed about having to eat.

When I walk through the library to get to the kitchen, Sam’s sitting at the table with a book open. He raises his eyebrows at me when I come in.

“Long night?”

“No,” I lie quickly. I don’t know how to explain last night.

“Really? Because it’s four thirty in the afternoon,” he says with his signature bitchface, and _shit._ He’s got me.

“We’ve been hunting for weeks, I think I’m entitled to some extra sleep,” I say, walking past him and heading into the kitchen.

“You left your door open last night, Dean. I saw you and Cas this morning,” Sam says from behind me. I stop and whirl around to face him, panicked.

“Oh.” What do I say here? How do I even address this? Why didn’t Cas think to shut the damn door?

“That’s all you’re gonna say? ‘Oh’?” His eyes are reserved, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“We aren’t fucking.”

What the fuck. Of all the things to blurt, why the hell is that what I chose. Oh dear god. We aren’t fucking. Sure Dean, that’s super assuring for Sam. That’s exactly what he wants to hear.

Sam’s expression is shocked, like he’d never suggest that I was nailing Cas, but I saw my bedroom this morning. I know what it looked like.

“Do you like him?” he asks. “Like, romantically?”

“Would it matter to you if I did?” I ask, unsure of how to respond. He smiles.

“Dean, you know I wouldn’t care if you were into dudes right?” He looks at me incredulously, but _no, actually, I did not know that._ I didn’t know that at all.

“I’m not into guys,” I say quickly, and Sam raises his eyebrows at me. I falter under his stare. “I might like, maybe _one_ guy,” I say in a slightly smaller voice. I sit down across from him at the table and _man, I really wish I was drunk for this._

“So you do like him?” he asks.

“Yes? Maybe? I don’t know Sam,” I answer truthfully, running a hand through my hair shakily. “I wasn’t going to tell you like this. I thought maybe later, if I actually worked things out with how I feel and Cas and I like-” I can’t say _became a couple_ , so I don’t. “I thought I had a little more time.”

“Hey, at least you don’t have to worry about that anymore though, right?” he asks with a smile, and I nod, and this is like nineteen different levels of weird for me right now.

“You said you don’t care if I’m into dudes but like-” I pause. “Are you okay with the fact that it’s Cas?”

“Dean,” he says with a laugh. “Dude, I love Cas. I’d prefer you were with him, rather than any other douchebag I know. Not to mention this isn’t exactly a huge shock for me.”

That catches me off guard. “What?”

“You guys have been like, seriously eye-fucking for years. I’m kind of happy you’re finally acknowledging it, actually.”

I glare at him, actually _glare_ , and he has the decency to shrink back a little bit, looking back down at his book. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“I’m going to go make breakfast,” I announce because I’ve reached my limit on embarrassing conversations. Sam mumbles something about it being “nearly five” but I ignore him, heading into the kitchen.

I make pancakes and coffee, because it’s all we have. I use the just-add-water type of pancakes, because everything in the bunker has gone bad and we haven’t gone grocery shopping.

The smell of coffee must draw Cas out, because while I’m flipping pancakes he shuffles in. Sam raises his eyebrows at me after seeing Cas in my pajama pants, but I ignore him. Cas gives me a lazy smile as he heads straight to the coffee pot, pouring a cup that is probably about half coffee, half sugar. “Where’s the cream?” he asks, eyebrows knitted together as he looks around.

“We’re out,” Sam says. “Everything went bad while we were gone. We’ll go grocery shopping soon.”

Cas looks up when Sam says the words _grocery shopping_ and says “Dean and I can go.” Sam not-so-discretely glances in my direction and tells Cas that _that sounds great._


End file.
